And as she was thinking this, she announced eagerly, "If—if you do go away, I shall stay on with the Aeroplane Lady, as I told you, Paul. Yes. I'd much rather I should have something to do. And I'd get nearly a pound a week, and my keep. Besides! I've got my own money."
"Which money, dear?" asked Paul Dampier.
The quick eyes of the Reverend Hugh had not left the young man's face.
They were fixed still more scrutinisingly upon it as the old man interposed, "Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Dampier, that you were not aware that my niece had got a little bit of her own?"
"There! I knew Uncle would say that!" burst out the young girl, angry and blushing and ashamed. "I knew he'd say you were only marrying me because of that! He won't believe that it wouldn't make any difference to you that I've got seventy-five pounds a year!"
"Seventy-five pounds a year? Have you?" said the young man, surprised. "Really?"
And it was Gwenna's turn to be surprised as his frank face cleared and his voice took a very relieved note.
"I say, how topping! Make no difference to me? But it does. Rather!" he declared. "Don't you see that I shall know you won't have to work, and that I shall be ever so much more comfortable about you? Why did you never tell me?"
"I forgot," said Gwenna truly.
And the Reverend Hugh suddenly laughed aloud.